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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27609974">Step Into The Light</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vesperione/pseuds/Vesperione'>Vesperione</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>PEIPHQ Shenanigans [14]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Black Friday - Team StarKid</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Bleeding, Death, Hurt/Comfort, Knives, M/M, Metaphors, Near Death, Potential Murder, Stabbing, TWs:, cuts but not sh, fun fact: there's gore in this book, i didn't know i could write mild gore until today, imagery and lexical fields are the way forward babey, reference back to my oneshot "chemicals" but briefly, this is what i mean when i say im good at writing, xander has powers au</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 04:43:28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,093</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27609974</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vesperione/pseuds/Vesperione</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Xander’s been hiding a secret for the past twenty however long years since he first stepped foot in earth. Now, engaged to John McNamara, he realised he had to confess what burdened him, but he just couldn’t put it into words. But, when he lies on the street unconscious and bleeding out, his secret is told for him.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Xander Lee/John McNamara</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>PEIPHQ Shenanigans [14]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1764349</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Step Into The Light</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>for those of you who didn't catch the trigger warnings:</p><p>TWS: stabbing, murder, death, cuts but not sh, potential murder, knives</p><p>also, i did drop in a reference to the poem from the power and conflict anthology for aqa named Remains by Simon Armitage because that fucking poem is my only will to revise!!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He wished he knew how he ended up like how he had. He genuinely wished he could recall the day’s events with a clear mind, but every time he tried, a searing pain replaced any sudden thought he could try and come up with. He remembered a gentle blue flash that surrounded him, and the feeling of a spider crawling up his back, but nothing more, nothing less. Now, he realised, he was home, with John, and John had a bowl of warm water beside him and an old dish rag that he was soaking in it.</p><p>They sat in silence. Xander didn’t know if he’d been unconscious or not, but he felt as if he’d slept for an eternity. He tried to make sense of where he was, and with the slowest movements of his eyes flickering around the room, he could figure he was lying on his back facing the ceiling in his and John’s shared bedroom. He recognised the softness of the mattress underneath him and the same paper-like feeling of the duvet that covered them at night, keeping them safe from harm. He heard the splashing of the water in the bowl and felt John’s hand slide in his own.</p><p>“You’re awake?”</p><p>A question. A question was never good. He tried to nod, but his head swarmed with pain. Why was he in pain? He wanted answers, but they appeared to be irretrievable. “I didn’t think you’d be awake for another…day.” John gently shrugged and ran his thumb over Xander’s knuckles. Xander made the keen observation that John, since getting home, had changed into pyjamas, and that he was shirtless and littered in stitches and bandages all over his chest. “Do you remember what happened?”</p><p>He tried to talk, but his words glued together, and he felt as if he tried too hard, that he’d cry instead. Ignoring the warning signals his mind was sending him, he shook his head slowly, encapsuled by the safety of his pillow that held him with an odd sense of protection. It was a pillow. What was he talking about?</p><p>“No?” John asked before nodding. Then did Xander realise how much softer his voice usually was. There wasn’t an edge of roughness to it, and it was just soft. It was softer than the golden strands of hair attached to his fiancé’s head that he found comfort in running his fingers through, softer than the mattress he was lying on. It was delicate, softer than anything he’d ever known, and he couldn’t understand why. “Here, let me take your arm. Let me clean you up.”</p><p>As Xander’s eyes flicked to his arm, he saw an awfully large gash on the underside of it, and a thick red substance dripped down it. He immediately gasped out and his eyes widened, but John squeezed his hand, cupping his cheek, and just like his voice, his hands were so soft, and so careful. “Hey,” he said, looking into his panic-stricken eyes, shushing him, his voice the quietest whisper he’d ever heard. “I’m going to clean you up, and then I’m going to bandage you the best I could.” He removed his hand from Xander’s cheek and sat back, ringing the cloth of water, before pressing it to the gash. “You’re lucky. Your blood looked black earlier...” John shuddered at the memory, and Xander blinked.</p><p>Black. His blood hadn’t <em>looked </em>black, it <em>had </em>been black. The pigment had darkened as the oxygen from Xander’s mind failed to circulate. He struggled to take in a breath, the feeling of water stuck in his throat preventing him from completing such an easy task. Little by little, whatever information he’d needed was slowly being fed back to him through a string, woven so delicately if he moved, it’d snap. Then he’d be left with nothing.</p><hr/><p>He’d been in his office, and he’d had a mild headache since he woke up. He put it down to a migraine, so decided on wearing his glasses all day. He didn’t want the bright lights of the precinct to worsen it, and he didn’t want to concern John either. John cared. He cared more than he often let on, but Xander managed to find ways around his fiancé worrying so much about him. With breakfast, he took an ibuprofen tablet with a glass of water before driving to work, John by his side, hoping things would run smoothly.</p><p>He was able to work as much as he could, but by lunch, he found himself having to take constant breaks. He found himself short of breath, only ten seconds away from passing out or so it seemed to be. He sat himself down at his desk eventually, caressing his temples in some weird hope that it’d magically cure his aches. He closed the lid to his laptop and uttered a pained groan as the door clicked open, and there stood his knight in shining armour, just in time as always.</p><p>“You look rough,” he said as he stepped in, closing the door behind him.</p><p>“Yeah, I don’t half feel it…” he said, his voice dripping with hurt and tiredness. “I took another paracetamol twenty minutes ago. You know, it doesn’t even hurt that badly, but it’s one of those pains that hurts too badly if it’s there for so long.”</p><p>John nodded and stood in front of his desk, nodding. “I understand, I get that,” he said and looked at him. “You’re not well, Xander. Come on, we’ll go get coffee, and then I’ll take you home. You get straight back to bed, and sleep, alright?”</p><p>Xander sighed, and his body became weighed down as he grabbed his bag. He struggled to stand back up afterwards, feeling nothing but the true pain of the headache which was starting to take its toll. “Okay…” he took his glasses off only to rub his eyes before putting them straight back on and then he threw his bag on his back, John’s fingers interlocking with his own. John guided him out the door, and things should have gone smoothly like Joh had said when he recited the plan, but an agent stopped John when they were walking in need of something. John sighed and looked to Xander.</p><p>“If you go and wait by the car, I’ll be there in ten minutes, alright?” John asked, looking at Xander, who by that point just needed to get home.</p><p>“Yeah. Go do your general thingy…” he said before sighing once more. He could see John’s smile, and he felt John kiss his cheek, but he didn’t register it until he was leaning against the cold metal of the JEIP. He placed his hand against his forehead, and what suddenly felt like multiple sparks of electricity at once ran from his fingertips to his brain. He yelped out, and in the process, flinched, meaning his eyes had closed.</p><p>When he reopened them, he wasn’t alone, and he certainly wasn’t in Hatchetfield. Where he stood, he was facing what he assumed was north, but it was hard to tell when the place he was stuck in was one huge, black box. He tried to lift his foot, but whatever substance he was stood in was now acting as a glue. It was hard to move in, yet easy to kick around. There was pungent smell from somewhere he couldn’t locate. It was the sickening scent of metal, and also some sort of cheap disinfectant John used to clean the bathroom. He didn’t know why.</p><p>As said, he wasn’t alone, or hadn’t been. Before him stood the man who was technically his father. The catch was that the ‘man’ was a bodiless entity with glowing green eyes and tentacles, and beside him stood his henchmen, four on either side. Unfortunately, he could make out the ragged silhouettes of the other four behind him, outlined in a thick green, showing their fur-covered suits. He just had to get stuck with the lord of water and all within it.</p><p>“What?” He asked, and his shoulders dropped. He didn’t know how he’d ended up back in The Black and White. As far as he was concerned, he used his powers enough that he shouldn’t be hurting because he hadn’t used them. Then again, his powers were only a gift from Webby, who had given him a chance to be Earth’s saviour. To murder the bad and to protect those worth saving, but not necessarily the good. He didn’t want to use his powers under any circumstance, and he certainly didn’t want to be a hero. He was a theoretical physicist, and it was all he’d ever be.</p><p>“You know why you’re here,” one of the Sniggles, one with thick, golden-tinged green hair, spoke. They flashed a wide smile, to which they bared jagged teeth, none of which the same size. They were pearly white, and their tongue was stained a plum red. “Don’t you, Awexander?”</p><p>Then came the chorus of piercing giggles, all from which except two. A shorter sniggle with flaming red hair and bright green eyes, their arms crossed across their chest, and the other one, who was the tallest of the lot with curly black hair. He was the nicest one. But the one with red hair, they were technically also his creator.</p><p>“I’m confused,” he said honestly, and then much deeper laughs rang from around the emptied realm, as Wiggly’s tentacles began to move in a speaking motion.</p><p>“Widdle baby-wabey Xandy-Wandy. You know your powers weren’t used for your own benefit, wight?” The god asked, tilting it’s head, it’s eyes glowing brighter, but had no impact on hurting Xander’s eyes. “Amewica’s gweastest weapon, and then, the world’s!” He giggled and the eyes flashed red as did the rest of the realm.</p><p>Xander looked around him and finally saw the man he’d been dreading. A stained, denim jacket, a crooked jaw plucked into a smile, eyebrows low and sinister with his green eyes flashing between the comfort of the green Xander usually saw and the red that the realm was bathed in. He was supposed to be holding an apple, but in his right hand was a blade with a black handle, and the tip was washed, bloodied. There was a dark rumble, and the floor shook. A light turned on somewhere down the pathway, and it gave Xander a chance to see what he was truly standing in.</p><p>Blood.</p><p>He gasped and tried to back away but found himself unable to do so in his time of panic. With every panicked breath he drew did the ex-colonel take another step his way. Every time the standard black boot of the PEIP uniform splashed in the coloured floor, it would splash up and catch his denim jeans. His shoelaces dragged along the floor, along the blood, creating a temporary path in the blood, parting it like the red sea. Between the good and the bad, and the bad was drawing closer to a man with no defence. He didn’t want to be someone’s blue.</p><p>Xander’s breath hitched as Wilbur stood inches away from him, the man’s breath practically blowing the collar of his waistcoat, the dog tags that lay on his chest jingling like a nursery rhyme, one that’d soothe an infant. He tried to move, but with his mouth agape and his sneakers stuck, he found his ability ripped from him. He was forced to watch as the colonel twirled the blade in his hand as if it were a pencil.</p><p>“Ya wanna know what I’m gonna do with this?” He asked, but Xander feared that it was rhetorical. He didn’t want to know, and his thoughts were confirmed when Wilbur spoke. “I am gonna rip your clothes off you leaving you exposed and defenceless.” With a slice of the knife through the air, Xander heard the ripping of fabric, and looked to see the right sleeve of his jacket falling off of the main body, dropping to the floor like a blanket. Xander, eyes wide, breathing heavy, looked to Cross, as he came closer. “And I’m gonna cut a beautiful little line up your arm.” The physicist watched as the other flipped the blade over to the blunt end, running it up the underside of his arm, and as he did so came a burning on his own arm.</p><p>He looked down and found it hard to process how his arm was bleeding to such an extremity. The cut started out shallow, and easily repairable, and then more layers of skin were ripped, and then muscle. Xander cried out, gripping his arm, buckling over, his feet still unable to move. His hand became sticky with sweat and his blood, a horrible concoction of anxiety. With him thinking it was over, the red lighting became brighter, and bolder, as Wilbur spoke once more.</p><p>“Then this little puppy? It’s going straight through your heart.”</p><p>Xander’s eyes filled with tears, but he fought against trying not to cry. It was like the final level of a game where he needed to defeat the boss. His legs suddenly unbuckled and clicked back into place. Still holding his bleeding arm, he began to walk backwards, Wilbur following him still, swiping the blade through the air, and as he did, another cut appeared on Xander’s body somewhere. He started to run, but he realised no matter how quick he tried to flee, Cross would only catch up. The Black and White was good at playing unfair games.</p><p>A voice in his head opened, but his brain was replaced with the horrible feel of rain that mimicked the dripping of the blood from all over his torso, and also his legs. <em>“Are you gonna wun away, Xandy? Why not stay in Dwosy-Town with me and my friendy-wends! I’m sure they’d appweciate you more than Johnny does!” </em>There came a giggle, and somehow, he found the courage to talk again.</p><p>“John is more of a man than you’ll ever be.”</p><p>“<em>Of course, he is! But you’re a biased little bitch.” </em>Xander rolled his eyes at his spite, only to find the pain starting to become unbearable, and the weight on his chest getting heavier, his eyes getting droopier. <em>“You can escape.”</em></p><p>“That’s my plan,” Xander said, his voice now a wheeze. The only problem to what he was trying to figure out was how did you escape a realm with no entrance or exit?</p><p>
  <em>“Kill him.”</em>
</p><p>“No.”</p><p><em>“You don’t have a choice. Kill him, or he kills you!” </em>There came a joyful glee from the back of his mind, and as he felt himself starting to pass out, he turned, facing the man who hurt John to the worst extent Xander could remember.</p><p>He hadn’t intended to kill the man, just knock him back a little bit. Even stunning him would have been enough. Ignoring the state of himself, he found a deep bout of determination from the pit of his stomach that turned into cold fire. Another slice through the air as Xander stopped running, and Xander’s glasses snapped in two, disintegrating into the realm around him. Wilbur was now close, too close, and he drew the knife back over his shoulder, about to take the hit, when Xander extended his arms, and the brightest projection of light, white in the middle with a blue haze that danced around the beam, knocked him back. He pressed the toes of his shoes into the substance he remained stood in as he grit his teeth, shaking his eyes. All he could hear was the crackling of the beam he was creating. With his eyes closed shut, he could see the light blue as well.</p><p>From what he could tell, fifteen seconds passed before his eyes opened again. He caught a glimpse of a man, a hole in his body. There was a literal hole in his abdomen, and he could see broad daylight on the other side of him. No organs aside from those that had spiled out and were being submerged by the blood. His eyes began to flicker in rapid blinks as the image in front of him became a photograph, before blood loss claimed it’s victim, and Xander Lee passed out.</p><hr/><p>“I need to tell you something.”</p><p>Xander shocked himself when he felt the words become untangled, his speech quiet but shaking like the rumbling in The Black and White. It must have shocked John as well, for he stopped what he was doing and looked to him. “You know you can tell me anything, honey.”</p><p>“But this…this is-“</p><p>“Do you need my full attention, or do you want me to keep bandaging you up?” John asked, and Xander started to push himself to sit up on his elbows.</p><p>“Would you rather we sleep in blood-stained sheets tonight?”</p><p>“A valid point.” John dipped the rag back in the water, pressing it back to Xander’s arm. “Then let’s talk.”</p><p>“I’m not who you think I am,” Xander said, and again, it concerned John.</p><p>“What do you mean? Are you some sort of…intruder? Or did you commit identity theft or-“</p><p>“Look…we can break up if you want to after this and I’ll understand but-“</p><p>“Why would I ever want to end our engagement?” John asked, the flannel gently brushing against Xander’s open wound.</p><p>Xander shut his eyes, resisting the urge to hiss at the pain coming from his arm. “Because I was created by The Black and White to be a mass murdering machine…”</p><p>John stopped again, blinking out of shock. “Like a robot?”</p><p>Xander uttered a wet laugh then, wiping his eyes, not realising the stream of tears that had began to form. He shook his head, relaxing against the headboard. “Not like a robot…but in 1983…do you know who the Sniggles are?”</p><p>“Ah, The Sniggles. I’m familiar.” John nodded, grabbing bandaging cloth from beside him, unravelling it while the flannel lay on the cut. “Go on.”</p><p>“They were ordered by Wiggly to make a henchman for him. One to cause havoc on earth, one intended to be immortal…and then they fucked up and there was suddenly this new-born baby on the table. And with the flash that created me gave The Sniggles their personalities, and they assigned themselves “codenames” beforehand as they were identical, but…but there’s eight of them. Stone, Pob, Blush, Moon, Star, Cat, Eldy and Spy. Cat was the one to make me, Pob is the nicest one there. The other’s hate me.”</p><p>“Who could hate you?”</p><p>“You’d be surprised.” He shook his head and continued talking. “So, the Sniggles, they had a discussion amongst themselves and ultimately decided if they were to give a new-born baby to Wiggly, they’d all get killed. They then didn’t know what to do, so Stone, they picked me up and threw me out the portal.”</p><p>“They had a portal in 1983?”</p><p>“Mhmm. They didn’t think it worked, but it was a prototype and I landed in PEIP. My dad, my adopted dad, he worked there as an electrician at the time. He didn’t leave me…but the portal…Webby created the gateway.”</p><p>“Webby?”</p><p>“Webby’s the person who onlooks the world, and everything that takes place in it. She knows all, sees all, is all. She’s a spider.”</p><p>“Oh. Nice.” John shrugged and continued to bandage Xander’s arm up.</p><p>“So, she created this rift through time and space that formed the barrier between our world and The Black and White. It was replaced when the portal frame broke in 2002 and was replaced with a legitimate piece of fabric guaranteed access with no faults in 2005 before Wilbur went in the portal.” The name left a sour taste in his mouth and he swallowed. “But as I passed through that rift…as a baby, I was gifted powers.”</p><p>John paused, carefully moving the flannel back to the warm bowl of water. “Powers?”</p><p>“I know, it’s crazy and you don’t have to believe me. I’m not asking you to but…” he sniffled and wiped his eyes once more, staring at the ceiling to stop himself from crying. “I can turn energy into light. Through my powers I have safe access to The Black and White, and also to Webby. But, because I was intended for Wiggly’s use, he controls me as well…he wants me to be a mass murderer, to rain nothing but havoc and to use my powers for the worst. Webby…she wants me to be Earth’s guardian while she isn’t there.”</p><p>“But I’ve never seen your powers?”</p><p>“That’s actually a lie…” he said and shut his eyes. “The second time we went to Vegas, and the world stopped, frozen in time. It wasn’t a coincidence; it was me.”</p><p>“My goodness…”</p><p>“But you weren’t supposed to see it back then. I was naïve, and I thought I could control it, but I didn’t and…” He sniffled again. “I use them to do simple tasks, like lock my lab and the car up, close doors and such. But my eyes go blue when I do so, hence the blue-filtered glasses I’m so ‘obsessed with’.” He opened his eyes again and held up his good hand, his left one that wasn’t being bandaged, and shot a small blast of blue light at the wall. It fizzed once it hit the wall but left no mark.</p><p>John watched before looking at Xander, now intrigued. “What…what else can you do?”</p><p>“Pretty much anything…I can stun enemies, freeze time but that only happened once, act as a shield for myself or anyone touching me, but I tend to fire the blasts so that enemies get pushed back. To lock doors, it requires mental power, not physical. I also glow, sometimes. And I create crystals which can put people to sleep but like night-time sleep not unconscious sleep and- and I’m like a lantern…it’s what dad used to say.” He shrugged before regretting that decision. “But…if worst comes to worst, I can kill people…” He took a breath and looked at him. “When I passed out…I was pulled to The Black and White. If I don’t use my powers ‘correctly’ per se, then Wiggly uses me for training. And your mentor was there and…he had a knife and…” he shuddered. “He tried to kill me. So, I ripped a hole through his body. Whether it was the real Wilbur or not is a different question. But I feel shitty…”</p><p>“Hey,” John said and sat on the bed, placing the water on the floor. “The Black and White…it creates images to scare you. Little visions you think you saw but when you turn, they’re not there. People or your worst fears, noises, cold chills. That’s the realm for you. I’m sure Wiggly wanted to scare you into seeing you use your full potential.”</p><p>“I guess…”</p><p>“But I don’t love you any less than I did when I found you slumped by the car this morning.” A bright smile filled his face as he cupped Xander’s cheek. He brushed the tears that were yet to fall from Xander’s eyes as carefully as he could. “Is there anything I need to know in case this happens again?”</p><p>“Mainly…mainly that if my powers aren’t used correctly, I’ll either get really bad headaches which require me to use my powers. They’re usually caused by if I haven’t used my powers for a while, or if I have abdominal pain…heat reduces it.”</p><p>“So, it’s like…menstruating?”</p><p>“I really wish it wasn’t, but yes. Except it doesn’t happen on a monthly basis.”</p><p>John nodded and leaned forward, kissing his forehead, before clambering over him, getting under the covers beside Xander, wrapping his arms over his torso, which had been stitched and bandaged as well. “Thank you for telling me. I won’t tell a soul.” He kissed him softly, before burying into the crook of Xander’s neck, helping to lie him down. “I love you, firefly. I can’t wait to marry you.”</p><p>“I love you too- wait, firefly?”</p><p>“Yeah, because you glow like a firefly!” John said and looked at him. “What, don’t you like it?”</p><p>Xander shook his head and held John closer to him. “I love it…” he shut his eyes and relaxed fully. “Night, John.”</p><p>“Night, Xander,” John smiled as he closed his eyes, as did Xander.</p><p>No matter what was thrown at him, Xander knew then that things were gonna be okay. He didn’t have to hide anymore. He was free.</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>thE FIRST USE OF THE FIREFLY NICKNAME okay so my writing style is different and i don't know where this book came from okay so i hope you enjoyed, comment respectfully or not at all</p><p>and also i've had this book planned out for quite some time and i'm very happy with the outcome-</p></blockquote></div></div>
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